He was surrounded on all sides by enemies. By and by, looking toward his city, he saw the glow of fire. It meant that the traitors, who had come in to surrender, had opened the gate and the enemy had gone in in force. They had made the fires in order to perplex and distress Kuan Yü and indeed the sight saddened him. In the night he made efforts to escape from the hill, but every attempt was checked by flights of arrows. At daybreak he prepared for one more effort, but before moving he saw a horseman riding up at full speed and presently discerned Chang Liao. When within speaking distance, Kuan Yü said, “Are you come to fight me, Wên-yüan?” “No,” replied Chang Liao. “I am come to see you because of our old friendship.” Wherefore he threw aside his sword, dismounted and came forward saluting. And the two sat down. “Then naturally you have come to talk me over,” said Kuan Yü. “Not so;” said Chang Liao. “Sometime ago you saved me; can I help saving you?” “Then you desire to help me.” “Not exactly that,” replied Chang. “Then what are you doing here if you have not come to help me?” “Nothing is known of the fate of your elder brother, nor whether your younger brother is alive or dead. Last night your city fell into the hands of Tsʻao Tsʻao, but neither soldiers nor people were harmed and a special guard was set over the family of Yüan-tê lest they should be alarmed. I came to tell you how well they had been treated.” “This is certainly talking me over,” said Kuan testily. “Though escape is impossible yet I am not perturbed. I look upon death as going home. You had better depart quickly and let me go down and begin the struggle again.” “Surely you must know everybody will ridicule you when they hear of this,” said Chang, laughing loud. “I shall die for loyalty and righteousness. Who will laugh?” said Kuan. “You would be guilty of three faults if you died.” “Tell me them,” said Kuan. “First of all you and your elder brother pledged yourselves in the Peach Garden to die or to live together. Now your brother has been defeated and you want to fight to the death. Therefore, if your brother appear again by and by and wants your help, he will seek it in vain. Is this anything else than betraying the Peach Garden oath? Secondly you are in charge of your brother’s family and, if you fought and died, the two women would be left forlorn and without a protector. That would be a betrayal of trust. Thirdly your military skill stands out conspicuous and will go down in history. If you do not aid your brother in his noble attempt to maintain the Dynasty then all your labours and sufferings will have been spent to win a worthless reputation as a valiant fool. Where is the sense in that? I feel it my duty to point out these three faults to you.” Kuan Yü remained silent and thought for some time. Then he said, “You have spoken of my three faults. What do you desire?”